It is a truth universally acknowledged (in my family) that I have a tech-panauti (jinx). For several years in a row, I bought laptops, phones, bluetooth devices, even electric kettles that ended up being defective, each needing multiple calls and trips to service centres. My usually cynical nature turned little-stitious, with me purchasing electronics using my family’s online accounts in a futile attempt to trick the jinx. Unfortunately, the panauti rang strong, and my devices continued to challenge me to learn the ever finer nitty-gritties of software drivers, cabling, earthing, and everything in between.
The worst year ever, perhaps, was 2023. If I was more prone to believing signs from the universe, I would say that the specific message I was receiving was to shut up. At a show of Don Juan Comes Back From The War, at the G5A Black box, the sound mixer tripped moments into the show, requiring us to pause, turn it all off and wait for it to restart. At a show of Pink is the New Black at the Tata Theatre, NCPA, in the last moments of the interval, the sound board mysteriously goes off and does not come back on. We do the second half un-miced, a sharp contrast to the crystal-clear audio of the first half performed with face mics. At a show of I Killed my Mother/It Wasn’t my Fault, at Veda Factory’s black box, my laptop gives me two options – either it will play the video of the projections, or their audio. If I demand both, the entire system shuts down. Silly me, expecting audio AND video in 2023.
South/Central/North Bombay. Prosceniums/black boxes. Privately owned/governmentally supported/ legacy/modern/brand-new. Nothing connects these vastly different venues, except The Jinxed One – Meghana AT.
The event that simultaneously broke my heart, and fixed it a thousand times over, was the show of I Killed my Mother / It Wasn’t my Fault, performed in April at [venue redacted]. The set up was a mess, the venue was less than prepared, and unlike our usual set up, I had to sit in the front row, to connect my laptop to the projector. This show is replete with hundreds of cues for light, sound, and projection. Usually, the three tech operators sit together in the back of the hall, syncing our cues, giggling at the foibles on stage, laughing raucously at jokes we’ve heard hundreds of times before. This time, Mallika Shah (writer/director/sound operator) and Adi Shastri (light designer/operator) sat together in the tech booth at the back of the venue, and Meghana (producer/projection operator/choreographer) sat alone in the front row.
Without giving too many spoilers, the play has a mid-show dance break. Set to an uber-popular pop song, we parsed many videos for reference material – think early 2000s, Hollywood make-over montages, Lady Gaga backup dancers, camp, OTT, girly.
The reference video that spoke to us the loudest was ‘Jingle Bell Rock’ from Mean Girls. In case you are a reader with little access to fantastic cinema, I’ll give you a bit of background. Four young women are dancing to the famous (in the west) song ‘Jingle Bell Rock’, when one accidentally kicks the CD-tape recorder (hello 2004!) rendering the playback stuck. One of the dancers (played by Lindsay Lohan) begins to sing the song, the others on stage join in, the audience begins to sing along, and their teacher (writer/producer of the film, Tina Fey) begins to play the piano. Crisis averted, hearts warmed, Christmas is saved!
That ill-fated day, after a tougher-than-usual set up, less than half a bar of the song has played, hardly the first three beats of the choreography have been performed, when there comes a loud BOOM! And the speaker short circuits and goes off. Mallika is desperately trying to check every wire, Adi has abandoned light operation to look from the main plug, Meghana is slack jawed in the front, as our 5 brilliant performers (Shreya, Astha, Dusha, Meghna, Riya) soldier on, in perfect sync without any music to hold them together. At last, we reach the moment where the singer [redacted] begins singing, only this time it is Meghana’s voice, paying little heed to pitch and tone, determined to sing as loud as possible to fill the hall. The performers join in, and after some time we hear the audience filling in, singing like it’s Antakshari and we’re all on the same team. Tina Fey couldn’t have written it better herself.
All the times my tech-panauti has struck, I have been stopped and caught mid free-fall by the lovely people in my home, friend circle, and occasionally at service centers. This time, my colleagues, and an audience with the biggest warmest hearts held me so tight, it made me feel like falling all over again. The tech panauti may run strong, yet I soldier on, determined to make shows with ample use of technology in them, because unfortunately, I simply love to fall.